Bittersweet
by Alcorion
Summary: 6 months since Kyle's death, Cartman tries to go on living. Kenny just might be able to pick up the pieces. Past-Kyman Future-Kenric. Lots of angst!


A/N: Hi there, this fic will be quite angsty. Cartman will suffer a lot in this but there should be a happy ending. Keeping in mind the name of the fic of course. I'm fairly new to writing so any and all criticism will be greatly appreciated! Flames shall be ignored.  
>I'd like to thank my awesome beta Alpha Hydra for her hard work!<p>

* * *

><p>Six months. It's been six months already. I almost can't believe it.<p>

Six months since the love of my life passed away, six months since my life lost all meaning and purpose. My life since then has been a shadow of my former one. Since _he_ died, the sky lost its color, the music lost its harmony, the poetry its meaning, the food its taste.

Maybe I'm being dramatic but, only those who loved like I did, who were loved like I was can understand this pain. But I'm getting ahead of myself, let's start from the beginning…

I've always been alone; even when surrounded by my so-called friends, I was still alone. The only one who saw me, the real me, was _him_. But that was not at first, no. At first he was just like everyone else, seeing what I wanted everyone to see. I was hated by most, tolerated by few and loved by none. Even my so-called mother saw me as more of a toy than a son. She treated me like a child all the time. Every problem or concern I had, she didn't listen, she just gave me food; perhaps thinking that it would shut me up and appease me. Maybe that's why I didn't cry at first when she died.

I remember clearly, I was sixteen when I found her dead on the living room floor. Overdose, they said; no surprise there, at least. The years of whoring and drug abuse caught up to her, I guess. What really surprised me was the number of people at her funeral. All of them hypocrites, they always bad-mouthed her behind her back, saying things that were true but nonetheless awful. South Park is the kind of town where everyone knows everyone, so I guess it would be common courtesy to go to her funeral after all, even if she was a drug addled whore.

Everybody pitied me, the fatherless son of a prostitute, the bastard, the fat one, the rejected one. I hated it. My pride suffered a huge blow that day and even the stares _he_ gave me were full of pity. I hated my mom for putting me through that.

So I was alone, and since Child Services was unheard of in my town, I was left like that. To fend for myself. Nobody helped, nobody cared. I started working at a dinner, in order to live. Sadly, in no time I was worse off than even Kenny, my alleged best friend.

I lost weight; I didn't eat nearly as much as before. I still ate a lot of unhealthy food, because when you can't cook for shit and have a limited budget you always go for the crap that's cheap and easy to make.

Something happened to me though, that one thing, that one break you catch that turns your life for the better. And it came from the death of a loved one. _His _loved one, to be precise.

When hisfather died of a stroke, he was devastated. The only one he could stand in his family, dead, just like that. At least my mom's death was expected because of the life she led. No one could've expected that to happen to Gerald, still so young at the time. Maybe that bitch finally caught on his nerves?

I remember it like it was yesterday. My life had turned to shit about a year before, making both of us seventeen. He was crying, all alone at Stark's Pond. Nobody went there anymore since we all grew up, the place was always deserted. I knew he would be there. I knew him better than anyone else, even better than his best friend.

To find him in such a deplorable state hurt deeply. I always respected him, admired him. I longed for our arguments and our fights. He was the flame my life needed to help me go through all the shit. I guess falling in love with him was a mere consequence. Since my childhood, he occupied my every thought and action. Everything I did was to impress him, or affect him in some way, to make him notice me. It was clear how I could only love him; he was the one thing that kept me going, the one person I longed to see every day. How could I fall for someone else if he was all I could think of?

I went to sit by him and I put a hand on his shoulder, trying to console him but, how could I? I've always been alone and I've never had a father, I couldn't relate to his pain at all. He surprised me when he held my hand then. He knew it was me, I was as important to him as he was to me, I now realize. Back then I thought he hated me just like everyone else, the years, our love, made me understand it wasn't so.

He told me he didn't know what to do, how to go on. His father was the world to him, he couldn't stand his mom and his brother was so detached from him, it was almost like they were strangers. His father was the only one who listened to him, who treated him like a man instead of a child or a nuisance.

He poured his heart to me at that moment; he told me how his life was unbearable most days, how empty he felt. I saw that we were more alike than I first thought. He needed me just like I needed him, our flame and our unique chemistry kept both of us afloat in the torrent of our lives.

I tried to reach out to him, to expose my heart and my feelings for him. It was so hard back then to show any emotion other than contempt, being afraid of the hurt I could receive. I told him that somehow I could understand, after all I lost my father even before I knew who he was.

I was a sick child back then, hating everyone but myself. With the passing years, things changed, I learned to accept my place in the world and how my life was supposed to be. I didn't let it affect me too much, but I still pretended to be an asshole, that was the role I was meant to play after all.

He smiled to me, that beautiful and radiant smile. To see it directed at me was breathtaking. He smiled not because he was happy, but at the irony that presented itself to him. Me, Eric Cartman, his only enemy. Trying to console him, something even he couldn't do when my mother died.

I guess that opened the pathway to our love, I tried to help him in a moment of need. Because I loved him I couldn't see him suffering so much and not try to help. I acted so out of character back then, I'm surprised he didn't suspect anything. And he reached out to me as well.

After that, Stan and he weren't spending so much time together. It wasn't new, this distance between them; the funeral just seemed to increase it. Life happened and sometimes you stopped relating to who was once your best friend. That was normal, it was expected really. What surprised me was his constant need to be near me. I became his life line, even more so than before. I felt needed, loved… I felt like I mattered to him at least. And he was the only one I needed. Even if my love was not answered, I didn't care, as long as he was near me.

It was beautiful how it happened, on a snowy day, which is almost every day around here. A common, mediocre day, he was spending time with me in my wreck of a house, looking as perfect as ever with his trapper hat and brown jacket with blue jeans. We were just hanging out, something we did almost every day, talking and playing some cards( I had long ago sold my videogames, out of necessity).When he said it,_ "I love you Cartman."_

He didn't tell me exactly how he came to realize that, or why he felt that way for me. He just said he did, and that he would understand my disgust and hate towards him from then on, as long as he didn't need to hold such a burden inside him anymore.

He always had been stronger than me, physically and emotionally. To him it was normal to be true to himself, to hide nothing. He wasn't ashamed of who he was or of his love for me. He was willing to risk anything and everything just to tell me that in case maybe I loved him back.

I cried that day, the first tears of happiness in my life. I told him I loved him as well, that I had loved him since I could remember, that he was everything to me. He was shocked; I guess neither of us could guess our love was reciprocated, even if we knew each other more than anyone else it was still so unreal. To think the Jew and the Nazi could love each other? Who could have guessed?

We started dating after that, we had everything we could need. We had each other. But I can't bring myself to say his name, not yet. It hurts too much still.

Six months my love, six months you've been away from me. Six months since my life seemingly ended. I had nothing all my life, finally though I had all the love I could need or want, only to have that taken from me. Destiny is cruel indeed.

I'll never see your face again my love. I would give anything to see you just one more time…

How to go on? I truly don't know.


End file.
